Night Sky
by SilverCrescentMiko
Summary: Harry takes the time to reevaluate his lot in life.


Have you ever stepped outside your house late at night just to look at the brilliance of the night sky? And no I don't mean the miniscule view that you're given while living in the city. I'm talking about the view that you can only see in the total absence of light. You know the one, where you can walk outside and sit there for hours doing nothing more than staring upwards at the celestial beauty presented before your eyes as a gentle breeze dances teasingly on your face. Strange isn't it? That something that comes from the darkest of nights is so peaceful and magnificent.

Of course I'm not saying that there aren't things like that in the daytime, but my point is that dark is supposed to represent evil right? It's supposed to be a personification of the things that your parents warned you about when you were a child. Remember the BoogieMan, La Llorona, and countless other fables that parents use to instill fear into an impressionable young child. Although, it's not really a bad thing that parents do that, after all they're only doing it because at that point in time we lack the mental capabilities necessary to fully comprehend what they're trying to tell us.

Oh well, I guess I'm trying to go off on a tangent here. Back to what I was saying; dark is supposed to a bad thing, while the light is supposed to be something that will always save us. But if that's the case then why is it you can stare all you like at the stars, but if you stare at the sun for too long you get those infuriating spots in your eyes. I suppose I should get around to explaining where I'm going with all of this right?

Hopefully one day someone will read this journal of mine and understand the struggle that comes from simply being. I'm the beacon of light in this time and place, or at least I'm meant to be. One month ago I watched the last person I could consider family die in front of me. Although at this point in my life, maybe I should already be used to seeing death, but once again that isn't my point. The events of the last school year caused me to reevaluate my lot in life, and it forced me to finally open my eyes to look at those around me.

My conclusion was that I realized I didn't know who I was.

When I first reentered the world that I was born into, I was so grateful at being removed from the 'care' of my mother's family that I never noticed that I was allowing myself to become molded. I think that my godfather noticed it when he came back into my life, and so that's why he was always encouraging my rebellious nature. He could see past the role that was forced upon me, and he knew that the person I was showing everyone was not the person that I was ever meant to be.

By now, I bet that you're thinking that I'm nothing more than some stupid kid who just wants to whine. Who knows, maybe you're right but the facts are that you don't know me well enough to understand what I'm trying to tell you. When you grow up with only vague memories of the ones of who loved you, you tend to appreciate them more. I can remember the smell of lavender and chamomile that clung to my mother, and I can remember the melody of the lullaby that my father would sing so softly to me. Now, I can add my memories of Padfoot to the precious few I still have of my family.

The pain of losing someone you love is not something that can ever be healed. There are no magic words, nor potions that can heal the wounds left behind. They say that that time eases your pain, but I don't agree with that. I think that as time passes you become better at dealing with it, so that eventually you're able to think of the better memories without the shadow of the bitter ones tainting them. Unfortunately, with the way things are going, I don't think I'll ever get the chance to live it firsthand.

To look at things realistically, I don't think I stand a snowball's chance in hell of making it out the final battle with Voldemort alive. I mean, come on let's face the facts here. I'm a sixteen-year-old who hasn't the first clue about real dueling. I'm not going to count that dueling club farce that Lockhart had going in second year, because honestly I think that Neville could have taken him blindfolded.

But back to the point, when Dumbledore and Voldemort dueled, I didn't recognize half of the spells that they used. And if I can't recognize the spell being thrown at me, then how the in all the seven levels of hell am I supposed to defend against it? I can't just say, 'Whoa, time out. I need to look up that spell you just used.' I'd be laughed at hysterically for even trying. So where does that leave me? Everyone delights in reminding me of the fact that I beat Voldemort once when I was a baby, but realistically that was nothing more than just a stupid prophecy coming into effect and as McGonagall would like to say, 'Sheer dumb luck.' Voldemort made a serious miscalculation and forgot about the ancient magic invoked by my mother before he killed her and he paid for it. I sincerely doubt that he'd be stupid enough to forget about it a second time, especially with all of the effort he's put into killing me in the past.

I'm still young enough to be considered a child and yet, I don't think that I've ever truly been one since the night my parents were murdered. According to the prophecy that rules my live, everything will come to an end only when one of us is dead. I don't hold out much hope that I'll live to see life without the threat of Voldemort hanging me, but I do know that I will do everything in my power to take him with me. In some ways its thoughts of that nature that make me pause to think about the stark reality of my situation.

Either I will die knowing that my hands are stained with blood as I travel to the afterlife, or I will live knowing that I took a life probably even lives by the time the war ends. I'm not naïve enough to believe that this war will end without bloodshed. On the contrary, as Voldemort and his followers have already proven, they have no qualms in killing another living being as a means of ensuring their success. I fear that by the end, we will have been reduced to their level, only we will be killing to stay alive long enough to protect the ones still innocent in all of this.

Truly terrifying thoughts right? So how is it that I can see all of this so clearly and no one else can? I understand that the Order of the Phoenix is considered a vigilante group not sanctioned by the Ministry, but I think that in some ways they are able to see the danger more clearly than the Ministry is able to. We will not be able to win this by simply pretending that it no longer concerns us. Should Voldemort win this war, how long will it take before he's no longer satisfied with simply hunting and persecuting the Muggles and Muggleborns? How long before he turns his attention back towards the Wizarding World? If Britain will not join together to fight against him and his rule, than how can the other countries hope to do so?

I can see the prejudice and discord that so clearly separates us all and makes it all too easy for people such as Tom Marvolo Riddle to rise to power. In the history of our world, how many such beings have come barging into the lives of innocent people who wanted nothing more than to live peacefully? I am what many would call a First-Generation Pureblood, or in simple terms, my parents were both magical. I don't see the need for titles such as that to distinguish us from one another. The older families of the Wizarding World are well known, simply for the fact that they still retain their titles from the days before the Muggles and Magic separated.

Does this make us any better than the Muggles we feel so superior to? The last being they had that attempted to force his beliefs on the entire world, was defeated at the same time as Grindelwald, during the Second Great War. How is it then, that we have somehow managed to cultivate yet another Dark Lord to both terrify and enthrall us? Are we as a whole truly so weak-minded? Unfortunately this is something I fear I will never hold the answer to while in this realm of existence. In retrospect, I understand that many will not agree with the words written here, and for them all I can say is that these are my true feelings. I refuse to hide who I am any longer in the hopes that it will encourage others to open their eyes.

"We, and all others who believe in freedom as deeply as we do,

Would rather die on our feet than live on our knees."

--Franklin D. Roosevelt

How strange is it that such inspiring words should come from a Muggle instead of coming from a Wizard? Comparatively speaking, the history of Muggle America is tame compared to our own bloody tales. Moving on from that, I think that Roosevelt had a point in what he said. One thing that will always stay with me is something that Voldemort told me when I was fourteen in the graveyard of Little Hangleton. He told me that my father had died on his feet with his back straight and not bowed. When I heard those words, I knew then and there that I would do no less than my father did while faced with the inhumane monstrosity that is Voldemort.

I know that I can't be alone in that sentiment otherwise there wouldn't be so many people running to join the Order of the Phoenix. But even remembering that isn't enough to erase the image from the night of the Quidditch World Cup. There were a handful of Death Eaters there that were running around and cursing random people, while all around there was nothing but chaos as screaming and panicking people raced to leave the campgrounds. Why is that? Why didn't someone stop to wonder why they were running from a group of people that were clearly outnumbered? Yes, the Ministry had Aurors there to help maintain the peace as well as various other members of the Ministry Departments. But my point is this; Instead of running from them, why didn't we turn around and put them on the defensive?

Now's the time where I just know that people reading this will be saying that not everyone is as brave or foolish as I apparently am. But I don't see it as bravery or foolishness. As a great man once said, 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' By refusing to fight back against them, we are in a way giving our unconscious approval of their actions or their motivations.

I apologize that my words are so blunt or that I may be coming across as completely uncouth, but these words and thoughts are both things that need to be brought to the attention of the Wizarding World in general. By the time this war has ended, how many names will be engraved on the new Memorial Wall that will be erected to honor those that were taken from us from senselessly and oftentimes violently? Should we continue to stand back and allow a small group of others to do the fighting instead, knowing full well that we are all potential targets? When will we reach the point where we will stand together as one and say that enough is enough and that we will no longer be passive?

Something such as someone being a parselmouth does not automatically make that person evil, nor does having family within the ranks of the Death Eaters make one a Death Eater. We must as a whole stop to look at our thoughts and actions that have been allowed to run unchecked for far too long. Whether we would like to admit it or not, war is upon us. A war that will be unlike any other fought before. This time we are not fighting merely to put down another Dark Lord, we are fighting for the very survival of our entire society. If we choose to ignore it or decide to allow another to fight for us, will we truly be able to look at our own reflections in the mirror, knowing what kind of future we have sentenced the next generations to? The time has come for us to stop hiding. In the past remaining passive or neutral may have worked for the events occurring at that particular time. But in this new age that is being brought upon us by our own inability to act is something that will eradicate all traces of our former society from the Earth if we do not stand up and take action now. Much like the ever-twinkling stars that lend light to the pitch-dark night, we must do the same and strive to become the new stars in the encroaching night, because even suns die in time. And without stars what is left to illuminate the night and drive back the darkness?


End file.
